Ajunta Pall
by Heroes Die
Summary: I always wondered what Ajunta Pall was thinking about while his spirit was stuck in a state of not-being, and this story is what came of it. He's such a profound, sorrowful spirit.


"One who has fallen so far, and done so much evil does not deserve redemption. In a way, such a turning from one's way is cowardly—a betrayal of the self." –Kreia

Death. The agony of eternity compressing your mind. Or what's left of it. After ages of pondering what remains of the things you set in motion, what you cared enough to die for, details start to deteriorate. Everything fades except the actions that haunt choices of a life long past. At one time I was powerful, feared, admired for _what_ I was—not who. Now I can hardly remember my name. I remember the Sith though. I remember how they brought me here and refuse to let me go. I remember how I forsook the ways of the Jedi, turned on my master, and crept into the corrupt darkness that fed my guilty pleasures. Now there are no such feelings. No—wait. There is some feeling. I feel regret and guilt, those emotions than sink in too deep to be dulled by something as simple as time; they only grow worse. I can't escape them, no matter how far into eternity I drift. They won't let my spirit diminish. It yet remains for another reason, to find forgiveness for what I've done.

Belonging neither to the living nor the dead. It's a state of being I've almost become used to, but the memories still haunt no matter how far I'm removed from the waking world. The pieces of my mind I retain are disjointed memories of things I no longer know why mattered. Sometimes amidst these stagnant memories a living being intrudes. Usually it's to seek the power I once held in the form of a sword. It allows me to channel the dim speck of my life and focus it into the living world. But that's a lie I've told myself so many times it's become a sort of truth. The truth I deny is this: I feed from the living Force in the beings that enter here, sapping them while they try to retrieve the power that ruined me down to any shred of power I had left to my name. They desire my sword. It holds the power that made me what I was. And what I am…

Just like the sword, my power cuts both ways. It filled me then devoured me, leaving me with desires that could never be satisfied.

Death. Immersed in solitary darkness. That's the thing about death. There is nothing afterword. I chose this exile for myself, but I can't remember why. The feelings, that was the reason. I just thought about this, didn't I? Unending circles of thought. There isn't logic involved anymore, just haphazard thoughts strung together with a single compulsion to continue. If I stop, my spirit would diminish with no more than a whisper. This is what tortures me. Of all of the power I held, it no longer matters—it's important, useless. I wanted to go out with a scream that would forever scar the history of...what planet am I on? It has to be Kori—Koriban. That was it. The strength of the dark side poured into a world. That is why I was drawn here…to devour its power the way my sword had siphoned mine. The sword. But I've already thought of that as well. It needs to be removed from me. It's always there in my mind, drawing my spirit towards it, but I can never reach it. Never silence it when it calls to me. Perhaps I'm not alone after all. The sword speaks to me in the solitude.

Death. Isn't it supposed to be the ultimate finality? This isn't death—it's drifting. I drift on non-existent murmurs of the Force. Sometimes I feel guilty for using the part of the Force I had forsaken in life. Guilt. It follows me everywhere. With nowhere to go except deeper into a tattered mind, the feeling can't be evaded. I can get rid of it sometimes by thinking of the last person that disturbed these lingering thoughts. It had been... a young Twi'leck. He sought my sword, trying to obtain favour in someone's eyes. The Twi'leck didn't last long when he failed the test that was set before him, his life Force ebbing away while I added it guiltily to my own. Or had it been my sword that took his life? I was disappointed when the Twi'leck failed. Every time they come I believe for one moment they can release me, take the sword and loose me from it, but they always manage to get it wrong. And I am always forced to...terminate them. Their deaths had been quick—I made sure of that—unlike my gradual fall. I long for...

Another presence is here besides mine. I can feel this man from the other end of my tomb. He is powerful, more so than any I have encountered, but his presence seems familiar, as if he had left an imprint then departed without taking the test or the sword. Strange. Most can't resist the promises of every temptation the dark side could offer, most often the empty assurance of power. Maybe my time in this lingering state is coming to a close. But, wait…something is wrong. The power this man commands is not of the dark side at all. He's in the Light. Why would such a man come to a planet that is full of only the dark Forces of this universe? Disturbing. Interesting.

He is drawing much closer. It's almost time to reveal myself.

The man's footsteps pound on my spirit like a krayt dragon walking on grains of sand. The Force reverberates off him with such power—the sword is awakened by him and will not be quieted, nor will it be satisfied until the test is completed to whatever end. He also brings two companions. With this amount of energy, my spirit can collect more of myself than before. This is good. Perhaps I will be able to remember…remember my name. Maybe with my name will come more memories, perhaps even why I entombed myself.

The man strides through the dark side like it was nothing more than vapour in a desert wind—even in my tomb, in the bowels of a world that serves no purpose but to devour, he ignores the darkness. It's nothing to him but a shadow that can be banished by a flicker of light. He sees and takes what he will. That's what they all do, though this one puts more thought into what he's taking, the memories he's snatching from the supposed dead. The sword is the only thing left now that remains untouched. Remember, its power cuts both ways. There is a trick to finding the true sword. I know now. There were three but only one holds the truth. I cry out to take the accursed thing away, but the man must first pass the test. This is the test of three: I am that which grips the heart in fright, hearkens night and silences the light. If one choses the right sword, there is a reward, but failure will cost a dear price.

The sword is removed. The man has taken the bait and sealed two paths of fate. Now is the time to reveal myself; a semblance of life floods my spirit, and I am discarded into the world of the living. Memories return and I ache with the force of them. It has been too long…too long in the cold and the dark. They remain there staring at me, except for the one. He stands still, taking me in, evaluating me. He knows me for what I am and yet shows no fear. He knows I am simply a remnant of the Force, a ghost from things so lost in history even the land has forgotten its past. But a crushing weight presses upon this man as well—a past he would rather forget bowing his head. But I must ask him. Am I disturbed again? A human…

They stare and remark upon shifting, confused spirit before them. But why is there a…Jedi? Here? Why have you come to this dark place, Jedi? Why…disturb my sleepless rest? Do they even know why they wake me or what they've taken?

But they ask…they speak, and they ask my name.

I…had a name, once. It scurries to the forefront as it's summoned for this Jedi, the name a harbinger of memories that I realize I never wanted back. Ajunta Pall. Yes, that was my name. I was one of many. Many that held the same guilt that plagues me now, but then we called it power. Only now we know its truth. The dark side does not serve you, it serves itself. We were servants of the dark side, for it will never have a master…Sith Lords, we called ourselves. So proud.

In the end we were not so proud. Now, as I stand before this man in the Light, I know I deserve this fate; my shadows cower in the light of his truth. We hid…from the ones we betrayed. We fell…and I knew it must be… I've been judged rightly in this exile. The things I've done…There is no hope for me unless they take my sword. If they take it, perhaps it will let me go. Finally let me go.

Will this man show mercy? Would any being on Korriban show mercy…

But I see this man where the others do not. I…see your heart, human Jedi. I see your power, your pride. You…you will find the old place, the dark place, and you will regret it.

I see the spaces in you the Light cannot reach, little Jedi.

Ah, I see you've found the dark place already…

I've walked your very path and reached its conclusion. What will decide your fate is this:

Is there enough truth, enough wisdom in you to see the shapes of malice in my Darkness?

Or will your flicker of Light go out?


End file.
